Part 8
Beckett stood under the hole in the ceiling, "Okay, Rodney, I'm going to start tossing supplies up to you, keep still and I'll try not to hit you."
"Oh wonderful," McKay muttered, "now I'm about to be pummeled by medical supplies. Hit the dying man, why don't you?" His pulse roared through his ears. His heart beat too fast in his chest, as if fluttering on a vine. It seemed to careen wildly against his ribs. This couldn't be a good sign.
Below, Beckett chuckled to himself and tossed up a diagnostic scanner followed by packages of bandages. Having supplies to treat McKay's wound released some of the tension that weighed on Carson's shoulders.
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"Jesus, Beckett, turn around," Sheppard muttered as he watched the chief medical officer toss package after package of bandages up through the ceiling.
They watched as Carson rubbed at his neck and twist his head as if he unconsciously sensed the threat.
"He senses it but does not recognize the danger," Teyla pointed out.
"He's a Gawd Damn Scientist, they wouldn't recognize danger unless it came at them in a test tube." Sheppard snapped in frustration at watching Beckett just a few feet from the black creature encased in shadows.
They watched as Beckett rubbed at his neck again and then looked up to stare out the large paned windows. He froze keeping a hand on the back of his neck. He stared at the windows…and more importantly at what they reflected back at him.
"He knows," Ronan stated.
Sheppard knew Dex to be correct, as Beckett's eyes widened and his eyes focused on the glass, staring at the muted reflection that loomed behind him.
The colonel felt his heart race in what he could only imagine to be a poor imitation of the fear that must be lancing behind Carson's still features.
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Beckett kept his eyes trained on the window, observing the dull reflection of the creature behind him.
"Rodney," Beckett's voice had a slight quiver, "You're going to be okay, lad." Carson reached for the next instrument beside him, not taking his eyes off the window, "put the bandages on under your shirt. The wound isn't that serious, you've lost a bit of blood, though, but you'll survive it." Beckett fisted the ancient's version of a sterile pack in his hands and sighed. "You're going to be okay Rodney, I promise." Carson's voice was laced with promise and a confidence he didn't feel. Practiced reassurance rolled from his tongue, "Colonel Sheppard is going to find you. It's all going to turn out just fine, Rodney." Beckett tried to swallow but his mouth had gone dry. His heart slammed against his chest, sending his blood roaring through his ears.
He wondered if Sean O'Connor or Joey Sullivan felt like this just before they met their grizzly fate. He wondered if they ever considered the fact that they would not survive. Probably not--the young most always considered themselves immortal, usually right up until their hearts stopped and their eyes fixated on something only the dead seemed to 'see'.
Beckett stepped away from under the hole in the ceiling and circled around the portable table keeping it between himself and the creature who unfolded from its position against the wall.
He slowly turned and watched as the creature melted from the shadows.
They stared at one another from across the distance of the gurney.
Beckett whimpered and offered a sheepish smile.
The creature peeled back its lips, hissing as discolored saliva strung itself across bared teeth.
Carson whimpered again and suddenly shoved the gurney at the monster.
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"Get those doors open!" Sheppard shouted as he watched Beckett jam the gurney into the creature and then dance away.
Zelenka typed furiously.
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Beckett skittered back from the gurney as the creature merely tossed it aside.
It stalked toward the doctor, its claws clicking ominously on the floor. It closed the distance, taking it's time, gliding menacingly toward the human that merely backed away.
"Carson?" Rodney called weakly from above.
"Stay where you are lad," Beckett reassured. "Every thing 's under control down here," he lied, his voice disguising the near blind panic that nearly strangled his heart.
He slid to the right, trying to keep his distance as the monster circled around him. Carson crunched the package gripped in his hand recognizing it as a 10,000 year old package of gauze. Not a very effective weapon.
The monster shadowed the doctor's movements, closing the distance with the patience of a predator that knew it had cornered an easy meal.
Carson swallowed nervously, instinct screaming that the creature was about to pounce. The doctor pre-empted the attack with a feeble one of his own. He tossed the gauze package at the monster just in case it might have proven effective. A distraction.
It bounced harmlessly off its head. The creature stopped and shook its head before nailing its prey with an empty stare.
Beckett smiled weakly and shrugged as if seeking understanding or perhaps a reprieve.
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"Zelenka?" Sheppard hissed.
"I'm trying, Major."
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Beckett never saw the blow that snapped his head to the side and sent him careening across the room and into a bank of shelving.
The doctor instinctively scrambled to his feet trying to dodge a second blow as the creature bore down on him relentlessly. Beckett ducked, partially succeeding in avoiding a solid blow that would have had his head shorn from his shoulders. He collided solidly into a cabinet, denting its front with his shoulders and head. He slid to the ground, helpless to get up but knowing he had too.
"Carson?" Rodney's voice sounded again.
Beckett watched with blurred vision as the creature turned its attention from him to the ceiling.
"No, Rodney," Beckett gasped, trying to draw in the elusive breath that had been forced from his lungs.
The creature snuffed at the ceiling.
"Carson? You alright down there?" Rodney tried to open his eyes. The darkness of the ceiling duct made it nearly impossible for him to discern if his eyes were truly open or not. His pulse roared in his ringing ears. He felt horribly weak and nauseated. A fierce chill had seized his bones and he shivered despite his best efforts to keep still. He needed Carson. He needed help. "Carson?" He could barely make out his own voice.
Beckett heard the plaintive call and felt his blood freeze as the creature stepped toward Rodney's hiding spot forgetting about his cornered prey on the floor of the room.
The creature backed itself under the opening in the ceiling and stared upward.
It tested the air.
"Rodney," Carson muttered again trying to climb to his feet with rubbery legs. His efforts were as uncoordinated as a new born foals.
He watched with swirling vision as the creature reached up with both arms and gripped the sides of the duct as if to pull himself up.
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"Shit." The colonel swore, slapping the side of the computer screen, "Get up, Carson, come on, git on your feet," Sheppard muttered and leaned closer to the screen as if he could will the chief medical officer to move. "Get on your feet, Beckett!" Sheppard ordered from across the city as he watched the creature reach up and was about to lift itself into the duct where Rodney McKay lay hidden and helpless. "Come on, Carson," Sheppard nearly pleaded.
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"Carson? Can you hear me? What's going on?" Rodney's soft questions floated weakly down into the room. "Probably rolling knuckle bones or some other Voodoo thing." The soft thud of McKay dropping his head tiredly against the floor of the duct echoed down into the room.
Beckett watched through swelling eyes as the black creature slowly started to raise itself up to peer inside the darkened duct. Rodney's head, neck and shoulders would only be a hand's reach away from its grasp.
Carson would fail his friend. He had led him to certain death just as he had Sullivan and O'Connor. He had not meant to; it wasn't his fault. How many times could he convince himself things were out of his control--like Hoff? Or Elia? When would the excuse stop working? When would it stop being 'misplaced guilt' and truly become his burden to be recognized and not placated?
Rodney would be ripped from Atlantis and all who needed him just because Beckett couldn't find the fortitude and will to climb his feet.
He'd be forced to lose another friend.
Beckett ground his teeth and pushed against the wall, trying to separate himself from the broken debris his fall had created.
Rodney would die because he couldn't coordinate a simple set of basic actions that even a toddler could master before its second birthday.
He thought of his mum. She always had the strength to face another day, to raise a son on her own. She always had the fortitude to move one more step, uncover another smile no matter how much she might have been hurting inside. She always had a little more to give, especially for him.
Rodney gave his all to Atlantis and to Sheppard and his team. Sure, he always let everyone know he was doing it, but in the end McKay always delivered. For better or for worse, McKay gave everything he had to those around him when he committed himself.
Carson knew himself to be the hesitant one, the one to hold back. He feared going off planet because deep down he feared he would not have the courage to protect the others like they would protect him. He dreaded his science would be stolen and used again and more innocent people would pay for his lack of foresight. His hard work would maim and kill when all he desired was to help.
He had wanted to help McKay, get him back to the lighted part of the city, back under Sheppard's protection and instead he dragged him right into the jaws of a horrible violent death.
Once again his good intentions would lead to the tragic and violent fall of someone else, another good friend. He wasn't protecting people; he was inadvertently hurting them, maiming them.
With swelling eyes he watched as the creature slowly lift itself upward into the ceiling.
With a roar that emanated deep from within his soul, fueled with the pent of pain of realizing he had failed on more levels than he cared to admit, fearing the not knowing if his mother lived, but believing she had died, Carson Beckett bolted to his feet and charged across the floor. He purposely aimed for the exposed side of the creature's thorax and midsection.
The doctor rammed his shoulder into the creature's side, wrapping his arms tightly around its waist with enough force to snap ribs in an ordinary human being.
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"He's protective," Dex observed.
"You have no idea," Sheppard muttered.
They watched as the Scotsman charged headlong across the floor and tackled the creature around the midsection.
They watched in silence and then horror as the two careened into and then through the shattering glass window which over looked the ocean from three floors up.
The two disappeared, clawed feet and rubber soled hiking sneakers entangled before disappearing from sight.
"The doors are opened!" Zelenka shouted with gleeful success.
No one moved from in front of the computer screen which showed only an empty room and a broken window in the fading light of a dying day.
Finally a quite voice was heard slurring, "Carson? Carson 'r you alright?"